Crossed Signals
by Dragonsbane1611
Summary: (GWC) Ron entered the room as though nothing was wrong and sat beside her on the bed. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when her head rested against his shoulder.


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Crossed Signals  
July 2004

He gaped at his friend in amazement.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I just – it's just – you really? … Wow."

Waving as though he was indicating the conversation was over he grumbled, "Okay, I get it."

Harry grinned and laughed a little.

"Can we please talk about something else?" the other pleaded, hunkering down lower in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"No."

Ron shot The-Boy-Who-Lived a glare that would petrify a basilisk, but he merely continued grinning. After a moment, his grin faded some as he sighed and pulled his chair closer.

"I don't know why you're in such a foul mood. If I were you, I'd probably be tripping over myself."

Setting his folded arms on the picnic table, Weasley rested his chin on them and blew his fringe out of his eyes.

"She cried," he muttered, more to himself than his friend.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Ron looked at him and shook his head slightly, standing and making his way toward the trees lining the far side of the meadow behind the Burrow. It wasn't long before he was joined, once more, by his best friend who must have deduced what he had divulged a moment ago, because he said,

"Maybe it's not why you think."

"Oh? It's not because she didn't want to go through with it, but did so I wouldn't be embarrassed? It's not because she regrets giving me something she can't get back and hated every second of it?" Ron nearly shouted, but managed to keep his voice fairly low, even though they were several yards out of earshot of the Burrow.

All was silent for a moment until, "Well, yeah, I guess it could be because of all that."

The red-head growled and sat down heavily against a thick tree trunk.

"But maybe it's not," Harry said again, sitting in front of him.

"You weren't there."

"I should hope not."

Throwing him a sarcastic expression, he corrected, "Of course, you weren't. And you just don't understand. They weren't happy tears, or loving, caring tears. They were tormented. She tried to hide them so I wouldn't see, but I did. I told her that I didn't mean to; that I was sorry. She just cried and I left." He paused and added, "She's not come out of Ginny's room all day."

Attempting to lighten the mood, Harry threw out, "Maybe you were really exhausting."

"Or disgusting."

Sighing, his friend reached out to pat Ron's foot sympathetically, "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

"Ron?" an approaching voice hailed.

He took one look and put his head in his hands, cursing under his breath.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" his sister demanded, sitting beside Harry with whom she exchanged a smile. She waited for Ron to respond, and when he didn't, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and said, loudly, "Oi! Ron!"

He balled his fists, gripping handfuls of hair, but didn't say anything. Ginny sat back in slight awe, understand very quickly that something was bothering him. Giving Harry a questioning look, he frowned, being under the assumption that surely Hermione would have said something. When he offered her no explanation or any comment at all, she glared at him incredulously.

"Wha…?" he started, to ask, but was cut off when Ron demanded,

"Do you need something in particular, Ginny, or are you here just to bother me?"

She bristled and Harry dropped backwards, covering his face with his hands.

"So much for not holding it against you," she began, falling into a rhetoric of heated babblings, "I don't know why she even … UGH! … I go to Luna's for one night and you …"

"What about Hermione?" he asked, suddenly hanging on her every word and holding his breath.

"Like you care."

"I do."

"You care so much you left her crying in there till morning?"

"I apologized, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it all from her already. If you 'didn't mean it', Ron, you shouldn't have done it."

Harry sat up, eyebrow quirked at Ginny.

"Er, uh, if I may … What did Hermione tell you?"

Ron seemed almost frantic as he looked from his best friend to his sister, waiting for her to say something. She, in turn, frowned at them, but, slouching a little, started to play with the grass.

"Just that … you know … and then YOU," she emphasized this, "left, apologizing for doing it."

"Doing what? I didn't apologize for DOING anything."

"You just admitted to it!"

"I didn't."

Ginny's eyes widened as her face began to get red.

"Tell him, Harry! Didn't he just say, 'I apologized, alright' ?!"

"You did," Harry agreed, face in hands again.

"Not for THAT, though. My God, are you nuts?"

"Then what were you so sorry about that made you leave her?"

Ron suddenly clammed up and swallowed, leaning back against the tree with that dejected look in his eyes. Ginny stared at him expectantly and Harry peered from between his fingers. His friend was looking at him, pleading. He dropped his hands and looked at the girl.

"Why was she crying?"

"Because he left."

"She was crying before I left!" Ron blurted, leaning forward a bit. Realizing he didn't want to speak further, he closed his mouth and slumped again.

"What were you sorry for?" she asked again.

"Why was she crying?" Harry persisted.

Ginny turned a dubious glare at him, making him feel very foolish.

"Oh …" he murmured, understanding washing over him.

"You mean to tell me that you didn't tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

"It wasn't the first thing I thought of, no," Harry told her quietly.

"Are you thick?" she continued her rant.

"Tell me what?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know, really?!"

"Tell …"

"You could have mentioned it beforehand!"

"… me …"

"I didn't know he was going to hav …"

"… WHAT?!"

Harry and Ginny shied away from his holler as several birds abandoned the trees around them.

"What don't I know?"

They glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed.

Going for the blunt approach, Ginny simply said, "It hurts … a lot."

Ron looked stricken.

"But she said ... said it was … she said it was okay. She told me she wanted to."

"I'm sure she did," his sister affirmed, but looked rather unsettled by her own words.

"I asked her …"

Harry and Ginny watched him carefully and Ron sighed.

"Everybody had gone to bed," he began. "I got thirsty – I always get thirsty."

His audience exchanged 'Yeah, tell me about it' expressions.

"I went downstairs and she was there fixing tea."

"Hermione was making tea?" Harry queried.

"In our kitchen?" Ginny chimed in.

* * *

"Hermione?" 

The girl jumped, "Oh, Ron! I nearly lost my skin!"

"Sorry," he offered through a yawn as he made his way toward a chair. "What are you doing?"

"Tea. You want some?"

"Love some."

He watched her for a moment as she poured two cups and proceeded to add milk and honey to both.

"I didn't know you liked honey in yours," he commented as he took one from her. "And how did you know I liked it in mine?"

She shrugged, "I've picked up a thing or two in five years."

Ron smiled at her when she sat beside him, mentally noting the way she held the cup with both hands wrapped around it and took small sips, making no sound at all.

Feeling his eyes on her, she giggled nervously, "I'm surely a sight, but you don't have to stare. You've seen me up in the middle of the night before, Ron."

The thought that he wouldn't mind seeing her every night after hours ran through his head.

"You look fine to me," he said after an awkward silence that he didn't realize had passed between them. He tried vainly to smooth his hair. "No telling what I look like, actually."

Hermione reached up and ran a hand ever so lightly over the disheveled bright red hair.

"It's not so bad, " she told him. "I rather think it's cute."

Ron's heart rate quickened as she twirled a lock of it around her finger. Hermione realized that maybe she shouldn't be playing with his hair and slowly began to withdraw her hand. Her fingertips brushed his ear and he leaned his head toward her involuntarily. However, after she wound her fingers into his hair, he found that he would happily volunteer for this kind of treatment often.

* * *

"She played with your hair?" Ginny asked, chin dropping a little. 

"Yeah, why?" Her brother narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You're not taking notes, are you?"

"No! I was just clarifying."

* * *

Hermione marveled at how soft it was and added her other hand. He seemed to like it. She wondered if she'd like the same from him, but remembered the thick, bushy hair atop her head. 

Ron was in sensory overload. Either way he turned, her hands were there, massaging his scalp. Turning his head to one side, he nuzzled her forearm and enjoyed the fragrance that lingered there. There was a nagging voice inside his brain telling him to buck up and be a man – men do not like their hair to be played with.

"Oh, but I do," he mumbled, kissing her inner wrist.

She gasped just slightly and retracted her hands, facing the table and drinking her tea in gulps.

* * *

"Why'd she stop?" Harry wanted to know, looking at Ginny. 

"What're looking at me for? I don't know."

"You're a girl, though."

"Well, thank you for your astute observation of my sexuali …"

"Don't say that," Ron cut her off. "My sister does not have a 'sexuality'."

Harry raised his eyebrows while the girl pursed her lips.

* * *

Ron opened his eyes, his head still hanging at an odd angle just as her hands had left him. 

"Hermione?" he said softly, refusing to let himself get embarrassed, one hand moving absently over the tabletop.

The girl glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, finishing her tea quickly.

"Are you packed for Number 12 tomorrow?" she asked.

The red was getting the better of him as it crept into his ears and cheeks.

"Yeah," he sighed, clearing his throat and drinking his tea.

"Me, too," she told him, grabbing his pajama shirt with both hands and kissing him.

* * *

"Hermione!" the listeners gasped in surprise and Ron nodded. 

"That's what I said."

* * *

"Hermione!" he breathed when she broke away. 

"You sound scandalized," she tutted, still gripping his shirt.

"But I like it," he grinned.

* * *

Ginny giggled and shook her head, "Oh, Ron." 

"Well, I did, and I do," he stated, pulling his knees up under his chin with a faraway smile in place.

"So …?"

"So what?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh … so we … did that for a little while longer. Then there was movement above us and she suggested we go upstairs. I thought she meant to our separate rooms and said …"

* * *

"Right, okay." 

They stood and he closed her robe and tied her belt, letting his hands linger on her hips. Hermione embraced him, and, placing her chin on his chest, looked up at him. He bent to kiss her again.

"Don't forget your shirt," she reminded playfully and moved away from him.

"Of course," he nodded, slinging the shirt over his shoulder and putting the tea cups in the sink. He began pulling his shirt on as he headed for the stairwell. She was waiting there for him and he smiled when he saw her as he pulled the t-shirt over his abdomen.

"Goodnight," he whispered teasingly, tickling her sides and kissing her cheek. She giggled soundlessly and took his hands, meeting his twinkling gaze.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He stood straight and narrowed his eyes.

"Where am I going?"

She smiled, running her teeth over her lower lip.

Ron took a deep breath and blinked at her as she opened the door to Ginny's room and he followed.

* * *

"I never thought she had it in her," Ginny breathed.

Harry agreed, "I know. Wow."

"But I asked her three times before we even … got to that. Then again when … when …" he shrugged a little.

"Yeah, got you," Harry held up a hand signifying that he need not go into further detail.

"She told me to, though. She didn't cry then. I would have stopped if she'd started crying then, or asked me not to."

"Why were you so worried about her not wanting to do it when she pulled you into the room?" Harry asked.

He shook his head.

"I just wish she'd said something last night. I'd have never left if I thought she wanted me to stay."

"She thought you weren't happy with it," Ginny told him. "Which made her cry more."

Ron looked offended.

"Not happy …" he groaned loudly and stood up, starting for the Burrow.

"R-R-Ron?" Harry called, standing up, but the girl stopped him. "Shouldn't I go with him?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," she repeated, pulling him back down beside her.

"No, I shouldn't," he nodded, folding his legs and cleaning his glasses. After a moment of nothing but the wind rustling through the trees and a few birdsongs, he leaned and bumped into her, whispering, "You didn't cry."

"No, I didn't," she smiled. Then it faded and her eyes got wide, "But it hurt loads, though."

He kissed her cheek, "I love you."

Ginny chuckled and fell into him, "You better."


End file.
